


Camelot School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

by mmusicofmysoul



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Camelot, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Lieutenant Duckling, Witches, Wooden Swan brotp, school of magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmusicofmysoul/pseuds/mmusicofmysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern!School of Magic AU: Emma Swan is a gifted student of magic at the Camelot School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where its director, Merlin, is her personal tutor. Time ago, she would never have imagined she would question everything. (Lieutenant Duckling & Wooden Swan brotp)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (+) hints to harry potter verse ‘cause why not.  
> Background: Red Huntsman, Dragon Queen and Pirate Beauty.
> 
> A/N: Still one of my first works on English. I’ve work hard on this one so I hope you enjoy it!

Camelot was not the problem.

It was a wonderful school overall. Emma couldn’t feel more privileged of that being her place in the world. Or that she’d made it her place.

For the first time in her life, she felt something as such, as the home she’d never had. It was fair, she thought, it was what she deserved after all those years in the system with August where they didn’t fit, where they would never fit and would never find a family. There had been small moments of light with her brother at her side indeed, like when he convinced her about how special she and her magic were no matter what other children said, that she shouldn’t feel bad about it, that she shouldn’t repress herself; or when he didn’t even blink saying one day both would get home and everything would finally make sense; also when he came to age and they ran together as he told her all those stories on their way to Maine, stories about the magical Storybrooke.

It turned out he was right and even there she was different or, as Merlin called her, gifted. August just smiled, proud; _“I told you”, “it seems you’re a freak in here as well, sis”, “that’s my sister!”_

Still, she’d never thank her brother enough for having fought for their future, for giving her the opportunity to be in a school with people she cared about, people who cared about her too and seemed genuine about it – what already was a huge change regards her childhood. She knew non-magical students or students who didn’t have any skills – such as Elsa’s ice powers or Ruby’s lycanthropy – maybe didn’t feel the same way, but she felt she could burst of happiness every time she found herself among the castle’s walls, or training with Merlin.

Camelot wouldn’t be Camelot without her magic duels against Regina every week, without Elsa’s ice lakes, without Ruby’s howls, without Killian’s hugs after a school day with him waiting for her on docks. Storybrooke wouldn’t be Storybrooke without Sheriff Nolan and the sound of the patrol’s siren and his perfect marriage, without the dragon sisters flying across the sky, without August and Marco working on wood, without library afternoons in charge of Milah, without the games into the woods with Ruby, Graham and Killian.

Her adolescence was good, she couldn’t complain. Her tutor was the director himself – and, according school myths, founder and creator – of Camelot. Which was the envy of many, even for magic students like her. (Though Zelena was jealous of anyone, to be fair, especially of her half-sister – which didn’t make any sense, Emma thought, as Zelena herself was a very powerful sorcerer.) Also, she was glad not to have Gold or Cora as her tutors – no matter how unbothered Regina and Anastasia seemed about being with them – and, despite she would always be an orphan, August was with her to play the role of father he’d always occupied. They didn’t struggle to put food on the table, and they’d always had people in the town willing to help them, as the Nolans, Marco or Ruby and Killian’s granny.

Emma managed to help with finances. She didn’t consider fair to let her brother take care of everything on his own, so she begged Granny to let her work as waitress on Granny’s, like Ruby. She insisted for months to get that employment and, when she got it, finally began to feel helpful; even though August kept saying it was not necessary and that she only had to worry about her training, because she already had too many things on her mind to add a job to her concerns. It was true, but she chose to ignore it. The good part was to contribute on that small unit they were, proudly called “family”; but on the other hand, she felt way too often her body was about to break apart due to fatigue and all the things she had to do deprived of time. In addition, was impossible to coordinate her schedules with Killian’s to hang out together as they used to do, and when they managed to find a quiet moment, one of them was always too tired. She knew about his things more through his sister at work than through his own lips. She missed him.

(Snapchat was a thing but it was crap, Emma wanted the real thing.)

She was exhausted, but still was fine with her life – or the course her life took. Long ago, the girl she’d been would’ve never imagined happiness was possible for her.

And time ago, the teenager she became would’ve never imagined she would question everything.

Or that she would question it so badly. Until that moment, she’d had doubts. How? Why? August just knew, he always knew. With that smirk and that enigmatic attitude of his. _“Oh, fuck off, Auggie, you’re a jerk.”_

Time ago, she hadn’t imagined the urge to run away would come back – but on her own, refusing magic, refusing all tales. The lost girl who ran, no matter what tied her – her friends, a school she belonged, a town who cared for her, a brother who loved her, Killian…

Her fear of losing everything had never gone, and her first instinct would always be to escape and leave them first before they realized she didn’t worth it and left her – _an inevitable_ , said her inner voice, enjoying of her torture.

Camelot was not the problem.

She always loved to learn about its stories and legends. They surrounded her from the start; from her sailor’s lips – well, from her _dock boy_ ’s, the first one to introduce the school to her, to talk about it. The boy seemed in love with those stories, as she was in love with her own ones. She still remembered seeing herself in his eyes: the lost girl with her head in the clouds. If her brother, despite being an ordinary human, was magic for her because he’d made her _believe_ , Killian was just as wonderful. He was her first friend in the town, taught her all she needed to know about that crazy place and its people and its traditions, he guided her, told her all about the gossip and legends around the great fortress all teenagers of Storybrooke attended – except Killian. Killian’s place were the docks, Killian had to work hard to help Granny and Ruby; Killian had no skills, he was just the boy found by wolves; and Killian didn’t feel worthy of Camelot anyway.

_“Killian is an idiot,”_ Emma had told him fiercely.

_“Ruby is a shapeshifter; you’re this… gifted sorcerer (whom I’m very proud, don’t get me wrong), the whole town is inhabited by… special beings and I… Well, I’ll always be this common guy raised by wolves. Graham at least can understand them, is his thing; I can’t even understand my own sister when she’s on her animal self.”_ And Emma really wanted to kill him. How the most special person in Storybrooke and the world could think so little of himself? There was not a day she didn’t repeat it for him and yet, he didn’t believe it. Well, they had that in common, she thought; perhaps it was the reason they shared that special bond.

But Killian hadn’t told her everything she finally found into her brother’s notebook, there was no way he’d known all those things…

The good thing (or bad thing, in this case) about using magic to tidy up the apartment was to always discover those new objects she wasn’t aware of having.

Bowling, cigarette packs – she’d kill that moron once she saw him again – and a lot of notebooks. Some of them were recipes (odd, since none of them even knew how to turn on the oven and Granny’s was their basic diet – they probably belonged to the former residents), more history books and story books – fairytales, those August had read to her all her childhood and older too. One of them was different.

The Pinocchio’s one.

There was no tale inside, she realized once she opened it. It had the wooden boy on the cover, but was a diary inside. August’s diary? _That_ was odd, she thought; she’d never seen it. Why August had one and she didn’t? She would kill him for not sharing.

The voice of reason inside her mind reminded her it wasn’t fair, her brother probably wanted privacy and something he didn’t have to share as they always had had to share everything with lots of other children; the diary was his and she shouldn’t stick her nose in his business.

Still was this thing… Emma hated her voice of reason; she couldn’t contain herself to navigate between the pages. Perhaps it wasn’t even a diary.

The first one was full of tales of Camelot, tales she already knew. What seemed strange was that August never talked about her school, nor had mentioned any of the legends surrounding its origin, as they were detailed in there. The handwriting was childish and trembling at the beginning, and stories were simple; gradually, the calligraphy began to turn sophisticated and the writing gained deep, darkness.

The boy wrote about a bearded man who often visited him to offer food, water and blankets to spend the night. He told him tales, tales about a wizard named Merlin and the wonderful things he was able to do with his powers; the man knew him, he called himself his apprentice. The man always came back with more tales. One day, there was an assignment for August, was he willing to take the mission? A girl he had to find, he had to prepare to embrace her fate; a special girl. He would know her with the name of _Emma_.

Her mind stopped. What was all that about? August always had related stories about how special she was and the life they both would have in Storybrooke; but he’d never mentioned any apprentice, any mission. Or was just another story created by him? Her brother was a great writer, after all.

She read on…

_Camelot_ … Legendary kingdom. Failed creation of Merlin, spirit guide and kings’ advisor. Frustrated legacy of his grandnephew, Arthur.

The voyage to new, unexplored lands; the reconstruction of the fortress – that time, protected by magic, unreachable and impenetrable, with the great castle in the middle of the field. The founders: Merlin himself, King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Lady of the Lake and Lancelot of the Lake – Emma recognized them, she remembered Killian’s stories about the origins of the castle and education in Storybrooke; Merlin, Arthur, Guinevere, Nimue and Lancelot, famous first Heads of Houses, though it didn’t sounded as simple in August’s notes.

Nimue, the one responsible for the idea of a recruitment place for special people, like Merlin. The harmony between the founders until Queen Guinevere fell in love with Lancelot and ran away with him, away from the king, away from Camelot. Arthur’s rage. Nimue’s fall into the darkness. The fortress broken into pieces once again.

But those were just legends, or that she was told. Nimue’s existence – Merlin’s lover and fairy turned to the dark side – was part of Camelot’s unofficial history, and Emma had never dared to question Merlin about it.

Nor about his ability to see the future. Nor about the fate he had prepared for her, because it was the first time she read to have one.

Merlin had always waited for her. August had always known. She had never known.

The book fell off her hands; she couldn’t react to prevent it, she couldn’t bring herself to take it and put it back on its place, hide all the books and pretend nothing had happened. Her only response was to run.

 

August wasn’t back from work yet; Emma had to act fast before someone could catch her and stop her. She still had the yellow bug’s keys. She had stolen that car with Neal outside of town. The police had caught them before they could flee out of the state, confiscated the vehicle and sent Emma back to Storybrooke. Then she knew it was impossible to find the owner and David told her she could keep it once she came to age; but she was never tempted to take it again, not after her time behind the bars of the town she loved. She didn’t want things that reminded her of Neal and his betrayal, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And Emma desperately needed to get away.

Her vision got worse as the rain fell hard; she had to get out of there once and for all, she wasn’t the same – not after all that happened. She hadn’t been the same after Neal’s abandonment, but had been able to move forward with help of people she loved; however, what she had found out this time was a whole new level of madness. Time ago, she would never have imagined she would question everything; but August and Merlin’s secrets were too big a responsibility for her.

Despite her brother’s faith, Emma grew up in a world where tales were just that: _tales_ , stories told for children to put them to sleep, to make them believe in a better world than the one they actually belonged. August had taken the fantasy to a whole new dimension, but that didn’t have to mean anything. That had been one of the reasons she’d wanted to escape with Neal: he understood her, he knew what was like to live in an outside, real world they didn’t belong but also feeling Storybrooke was not the place they should be. Neal wanted to run away from the legends and from his family, wanted to run away from Gold; she wanted to go with him, it had been the first time in her life she’d felt she could have a future _with_ someone. Neal had promised a new home where they both fit, where nobody would treat them as freaks – where they wouldn’t be surrounded by them either. She just wanted to be with him, but all their dreams fell apart when the police caught them and he did what he best knew, run.

Emma was no longer running because of Neal, but for herself. Living in a town of freaks where she was the biggest one overwhelmed her. She was furious.

Furious with the parents who abandoned her because she hadn’t been enough for them. Furious with Neal for giving her false hopes and broken promises. Furious with the liar she used to call brother. Furious with that bluffer of Merlin.

She couldn’t see her path well. When a blurred shape suddenly jumped into the middle of the road, her heart raced and she swerved to avoid hitting the wolf that had stumbled upon her way.

The bug went straight towards the woods and hit a tree – which hurt like a bitch. _Fuck_.

“Emma! Emma!” Did she hear Killian’s voice? Was he the moron who threw himself in front of her car? What was the matter with him? “Emma… Thank God, are you okay?”

She had no broken bones nor need to be taken to the hospital if that was what he meant. “I’m fine,” couldn’t hide the pain in her voice, frigging headache. “ _You_ are not okay,” she suddenly said. Emma left the seat enraged, she would kill him. “What the hell is wrong with you? How can you jump across a running car? I could have killed you, you idiot!”

“Well, yes, you could’ve killed anyone. Never got your driving license, Swan, and this car is still not yours. What the bloody hell were _you_ thinking?”

She shrugged. “Steal my brother’s bike seemed unsafe.”

He narrowed his eyes, _‘judging you’._ “Of course… I saw you leave your apartment, Swan. I saw you stealing the bug. We were supposed to go out for a drink… our free day, remember? What happened, Emma? Are you okay? Has something happened to your brother? Has something happened to _you_?”

“I’m fine, August is fine. You shouldn’t have followed me.”

“Good thing I did, we’d be looking for your remains in Canada otherwise! Why did you run?

Emma didn’t answer, which of course with Killian this was worse because he grew more nervous. “Is it Neal? Is he back? Wait – You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“The fuck is wrong with you, buddy?”

“Is just a question. Do you need me to give him what he deserves, to kill him? Your wish is my command, love, you just have to ask. No need to leave the country when he can leave the world.”

Emma put all her efforts not to laugh. “¡Neal has nothing to do with it! You're an idiot, you know? Now David will catch me and I’m going to jail again.”

He seemed to relax. “David would never do if he can help it.”

She slammed the bug’s door and began to move away down the road. She preferred to surrender to the police rather than be cuffed again. His “Emma, Emma, wait!” pleas were not enough to stop her. Great, Killian had got her mad too.

“Emma, what happened?” He was in front of her holding her shoulders so she couldn’t run, and she couldn’t avoid him anymore. She couldn’t avoid the truth – she’d planned to do what she knew best, she wasn’t able carry all that responsibility expected from her, she was going to leave him and leave them all, she didn’t belong to Camelot or Storybrooke.

Emma never cried, she hated it, it made her look weak. But for the first time in many years, there under the rain with her best friend – the one who always was there for her to hear her anger and pain without hesitation – Emma allowed herself to bury her head in his chest and let the tears flow.

 

The first she found once in the urban part of the town were her brother’s arms around her. Anyway, after a few short, emotional seconds, screams soon appeared. Emma didn’t keep her mouth shut and bit back. David had to intervene to stop the drama; he separated August and asked Killian to go with Emma inside the apartment and be with her.

She sighed because all those missed calls and messages she found when checked her phone. She wasn’t in the mood to talk with anyone, not even Killian wanting to cheer her up with bad jokes; she just wanted to kill her brother… and Merlin – but first her brother.

August walked back into the apartment a little calmer after a few hours and ordered Killian to leave him alone with his sister. It was unusual to see a pissed off August so leaving the siblings to let them solve their problems for themselves was for the best; but her friend’s glance wandered between Emma and August, not sure leaving was the best decision. Emma nodded; everything was fine, he could leave them alone.

Before leaving, both guys stood still facing each other. Emma tried to figure out what were the looks in their eyes, attempting not to laugh at the male ego contest. August and Killian weren’t friends but they always maintained a cordial relationship; her brother didn’t seem to like him very much for some reason she never knew, and Killian just accepted it with a shrug. Emma wondered if he did know why.

The room as invaded by the sound of silence.

Emma had so much to say but words didn’t take shape.

“So, sis…”

“You’re a jerk, Auggie.”

Well, it wasn’t the best she had, but it felt so damn good and she was already better.

“You’re a meddler,” he accused, just as angry. What a nerve! “You had no right –”

“ _You_ had no right to lie to me, bloody moron! To hide things from me!” Things she would never feel prepared, no matter how much Killian had wanted to convince her otherwise. “I thought you were with me because you cared about me, because you were my family; but all you do is to hide secrets. What is that famous fate Merlin have prepared for me?”

“¡I don’t know, Emma!”

Of course he didn’t know. With Merlin, you never knew. Not even August knew the role he played, why had he been taken to get her ready for her “destiny”, why he and not some other orphan boy. August only knew his role was to be Emma’s guardian angel, because – since the first time he saw her, the first time his eyes found that baby girl’s eyes, he explained, he knew he’d carry through his mission proudly, because that baby girl was his family. And it didn’t matter anymore both of their lives had always been ruled by a delusion that escaped from their understandings.

 

The thing with Merlin was he always predicated fuzzy things, things he never could – nor wanted – to explain, and then he disappeared when you needed him for answers. The fact Emma had to share Gold’s magic lessons with Regina for a month due to Camelot’s director’s “sudden trip” was just another proof of that.

She didn’t take it well at all, so chose to vent her frustration on her brother. He was already forgiven – but still deserved it, she thought.

Having to endure Gold for a whole moth with his nasty comments on her breakup with his son and his nothing subtle insinuation about how it was her fault Neal ran – how it was her fault he’d lost his son once again – didn’t help to improve her mood (actually, her    goody – and almost masochistic – side could understand why Neal wanted to escape from his family). Regina was a big support during training, but she couldn’t understand.

Her point was that she wanted to kill Gold and then kill herself. Or at least a tutor change, someone like Professor Fisher – which it wouldn’t have been much useful anyway because Ingrid couldn’t teach her more than a magic she already controlled, ice powers, but anything was better than Gold. She didn’t understand how Regina could deal with him.

(She just replied she preferred Gold before having Cora, like Anastasia – was reasonable, actually.)

Emma still had a lot of stuff to deal with and – as her life couldn’t get worse – she had to work overtime at Granny’s to pay the fine for her escape attempt with the yellow bug so David didn’t have to lock her, again. Besides, Elsa and Ruby kept her focused on preparations for the student ball.

Killian would also attend the ball, he’d said to her during the few moments she got rid of her friends and hang out with him – though Ruby sometimes found them and dragged her brother into the preparation madness too. He had been hired as chaperone the night and was well-paid. She was happy to know she’d see him there too, no matter Milah also worked at his side.

The uneasy feeling disappeared from her chest when Killian told her he found out Milah turned out to be Belle’s mysterious new couple.

“Really? Milah and Belle? Wow, isn’t it uncomfortable your ex-girlfriend is dating your sister’s ex-girlfriend? Does Ruby know?”

Killian shrugged. “Ruby is fine with Graham. And I want Milah to be happy; we’re fine this way. Besides, well – someone else is on my mind, my dear swan.”

“Oh, I see… That’s great,” she said halfhearted and went back inside her closet.

Emma was stirring clothes and throwing all her dresses over the bed where he was lying, reading his book – or at least focused on it. She needed to decide which one would be the ideal one for the ball and her _date_ with Jefferson – as friends, of course, but she was still interested in Camelot’s bad boy. Actually, she needed occupy her mind in something else than go looking for Merlin to that “Misthaven” land and kill him – the ball was a good excuse.

Killian watched the dresses and magic disaster her room was with a smirk on his pretty, stupid face. _Asshole_. He thought so highly of himself just because he was there on her chamber behind August’s backs – as always. Sometimes she wished him to fall while climbing the vine up her window, thus taking the wind out of his sails; but then she thought carefully about it and it would be her responsibility to take him to the hospital.

He dodged a pair of tennis that flew straight to his head as it were the most normal thing in the world. “So –” he coughed and immediately scratched that spot behind his ear, as usual. “I hope you’ll save a dance for your friend during your date with the guyliner.”

She chuckled. “You mean Jefferson?”

“That’s his name? I thought he was only the portals lunatic. Really, Swan, you have a terrible taste. You’re a gifted sorcerer at Camelot, have you never stopped to think what will your reputation become at his side? Disaster! You’ll be a social outcast for the rest of your school years – And what about all those hats and those _dimensions_ he says they can take you? Will have shared chats with him (in shameful condition, I might add; I doubt August approves such a bad influence dating his little sister – he and I must have a really serious talk about the matter – What I was saying? Oh, yes! Scarlet –) He has told me about this “dimensions” –

Emma did her best to contain a laugh that threatened to escape her; she just let him to drop all that speech about every one of the reasons why Jeff wasn’t good enough for her. She didn’t have the heart to interrupt him and clarify that Jefferson was just a friend, that she was going with him because everyone else was already taken: he would be working with Milah, Ruby would go with Graham, Elsa would also have work to do with Ingrid and Regina would be with Mal.

_He does care… Not that I care he cares –_

_I’m so screwed_. It felt like an epiphany.

 

An epiphany that didn’t let her alone until the ball’s day, squeezing her heart and making her feel – wrong?

She held on Jefferson’s hand as both of them walked through the front garden to the main hall’s entrance, where the music came and everybody seemed to have fun. She couldn’t let his hand go, otherwise she’d fall. Didn’t know how she would look at Killian’s eyes after being the entire weekend thinking of him in not much friendly ways.

Her mind wandered elsewhere rather than focusing on the path ahead, which didn’t help much to not stumble into anything from the ice decoration Elsa and Ingrid had been working. And especially, did not help to not bump into people – into Merlin, at least.

Because Merlin was the one in front of her – the moment she was waiting the whole week.

“Careful there, duckling,” he said with a caring smile. She wanted to punch his goody _nothing’s going on here_ face.

“Emma?”

“Meet me inside, Jeff. My tutor and I have some things to talk.”

Jeff nodded. He didn’t look impressed at all by the director’s presence, as other students always were when they saw Merlin. It was one of the things that amused Emma about Jeff: he never cared, he was never impressed.

And was convenient for the moment, she was grateful. Merlin didn’t deserved admiration.

She opened her mouth to vent over him all the frustration consuming her, but he raised his hand to silence her. “I understand your anger, Emma.”

_What the hell –? I still didn’t – Oh, for heaven’s sake._ “You’re hateful – Did you even – Did you escape to Misthaven to not have to face me, to avoid giving me answers?

“It was an opportune trip, but no. You were not supposed to find that book. There are simply things you must not try to look for an explanation, Emma. I should not talk to interfere in your future; the future you must build on your own.”

“Are you kidding me? You manipulated my brother’s life since before I was born, and now you come with this crap about not interfering with the fate’s curse? You suck as clairvoyant, Merlin. The destiny you have prepared for me – my mission – whatever is all this – is too much for me, I won’t be able –”

He chuckled, empty, defeated. “Now you feel you hold the world on your shoulders, duckling, but you’re stronger than you realize; you will find that strength inside you once you stop underestimating yourself. Nothing has to change now for you; go on with the course of your life without pressures, without thinking what your future holds. When the right moment comes, you’ll discover why you are so special.”

Bloody bluffer, what was she supposed to do with that?

Nothing. That was the answer. Just let it go and watch him going into a student party – to which she had to attend too. But – how was it possible? How could she be able to be in the same room Merlin was and to not think of his prophecies, of the fate he’d prophesied for her? Such important fate that made him become the puppeteer of her brother’s life. How could she go on just like that? It was crap, all that was crap; Emma did not want it, could not take the responsibility of that what meant so much for the most powerful wizard of all time, it was too big.

“Emma?” another male voice interrupted her musings. Great, like she needed him there to make everything more complicated. Killian looked tense. “Everything alright, love?”

“Shouldn’t you be working?” She swore she didn’t want to sound as harsh, but everything was out of her control lately.

“Belle said she covered me up. Besides, she’s with Milah. Is just – I saw the hatter entering without you and – As you didn’t answer my calls and messages throughout the weekend, I thought – I’m sorry, I thought you’d ran and I didn’t know anything.”

“Relax. I have no desire to run anymore – just to kill Merlin while sleeping. But now I think better – I should use poison, in both, he and August, and make it look like an accident. Who would suspect of me?”

Killian smiled, relieved to find her in a good mood, or at least joking. “But then you’d have to kill me to leave no loose end.”

“Exactly. The perfect crime.”

He shrugged. “It’s so bad is good, I must admit… How are you, Emma? Could you talk with Merlin?”

“Yes, but I didn’t get anything new. That he cannot interfere, that I mustn’t alter my fate’s course, that something I’ll know everything I need to know. I don’t know why I’m surprised, like I didn’t know Merlin. All I really know is the same old thing: I’m a freak.”

“Well, is no surprise, Swan.”

“Excuse me?” If that was another way to play the clown and make fun of her, she’d hang him from the highest ice sculpture of the garden to teach him a thing or two about tact.

“Finding out you’re special, that a big destiny awaits for you. It doesn’t sound crazy, sounds logical. I mean, I always knew you were, but I thought it was just me because I – Well, it’s not just me and how I see you, you _are_ that way. That’s – great, Emma.”

Emma was tempted to ask what he meant with that special way he had of seeing her, but she stopped herself. She also saw him in a special way; he was his best friend – the pain she felt with the thought meant nothing. “I don’t think it works that way, Killian,” she said, touched.

He sighed, looking tired of trying to talk sense into her because she was a lost cause, because _“how can’t you see the same I do, Swan?”_ which was what she always told him. “You also handle magic better than anyone I ever knew.”

“Regina is more skilled than I am.”

“With dark magic,” he pointed. “I don’t blame her – it’s what Gold always taught her. But you don’t need that to kick some ass. A month ago you lifted me in the air to hang me from a tree for forgetting your birthday – You know? There are private places that rodents should never have contact, love. My sister, Milah and Graham had to call David and he came with the patrol to take me down.”

“You deserved it,” Emma protested.

“They said the same thing – My point is – you're wonderful,” he said. Emma shivered feeling all the emotion his words were full of. “In a terrifying way, sometimes. You are not only a great sorceress, you're also a nice girl, kindhearted, you ‘re – There are many things you're better at than running, Emma.”

She smiled. _This is our thing, is what we do for each other._

He was her friend, her best friend, and it was worthy to keep it that way. She didn’t want to lose him; the idea of running without him at her side always made her feel empty, was when realized she’d had some horrible plan and there was no way of leaving Storybrooke without the people she loved by her side.

He was her friend, her best friend, and it was worthy to keep it that way.

That was why what she did next made no sense. Her mind knew it, the reason shouted her to move away – but her lips were moving on their own against his, her arms placing themselves around his neck. It felt fantastic – fantastic and wrong.

But her heart stopped when she noticed he was not kissing back. She fought against herself to break away from him, embarrassed and trembling. She couldn’t look into his eyes.

“I'm so sorry. I –” she didn’t finish the sentence and moved to get inside the ballroom already – maybe there she’d stumble into another ice sculpture and die, ending her problems.

Killian took her by the arm to not let her run from him. Why his breathing suddenly felt so closely? He smiled – no irony or innuendo, nor smugness – the smile Emma loved, the one that made her feel special, important. “I told you there were many things you were better than running.”

And he was kissing her too.

 

Emma had to admit that arriving to the school gates with a partner and entering the ballroom with another one was, as Killian used to say, bad form – or at least, encouraged gossip, nosy and, why not, sexist. But Jeff just winked at her when she and Killian came into holding hands; besides, he looked entertained in a conversation with Mal, Lily and Regina about dragons, so they were cool. It seemed like Mal and her younger sister had planned to take everyone to the back field to shapeshifting and letting students mount their backs for a few flights around the campus. It was one of her favorite things about attending a school of freaks and of course Emma was up for the activity.

She felt Merlin's gaze on her and Killian’s backs all night. She seemed delighted and conscious. Because the greatest wizard of all time who manipulated her whole life and her brother’s to keep her under his wing could not give her details of the future he’d envisioned for her because _"glimpses, unclear ones; not to intervene or bad things will happen”_ , but of course he could boast for having been right in his visions about her love life. _Fuck you, Merlin, really._

The good thing was that Killian’s fingers intertwined with hers didn’t feel wrong or ‘no, no, no, what are you doing with your best friend?’ But ‘what were you two doing losing all that time, pair of idiots?’ It was difficult to resist the temptation to hide behind columns for inappropriate making out sessions for a student ball, with Gold in search of couples he could expel for “indecent displays in public spaces” (as if it were not quite traumatic to see him with Professor Mills, but however.) Besides, he was waiting for any opportunity to get his former son-in-law punished, and the fact that Killian had – _momentarily and sporadically –_ left his job to go kissing a student didn’t help at all.

(Granny would kill him.)

“Swan, come here. Our entrance. Fireworks, remember?” Regina interrupted one of their moments, but couldn’t hold a grudge. She also would’ve done everything within reach to not have to see her tutor with her mother being together like teenagers – if she’d have mother, of course.

Mal came down from the sky with the last group of students, all of them dizzy and wanting to throw up, so she went behind Regina to be the first spectator of the show they were about to offer.

“Do the honors first, Swan. You’re the expert in this,” Regina said.

An entire crowd of students had piled up behind them and their partners to see what it was all about. Elsa and Ingrid along other professors were trying to push them back so there would be no injured ones – she wasn’t sure if burn or agglomeration wounds, but it was not her problem.

Emma did her thing.

Regina followed her. Elsa made the campus an ice rink and the sky a sight full of snowflakes – snowflakes and fireworks painting the sky. Ingrid looked proud.

(Once again, why couldn’t she be her tutor?)

It was a beautiful thing to see indeed. Dragons rose again illuminated by the lights in the sky as music was played – again – and the ice shone more than ever, all those dancing colors made Emma's heart to feel warm despite the cold of the frozen place.

Killian wrapped her on his coat and then arms to keep her warm. He buried his nose in her hair, as if wanted to be impregnated with her scent on his skin.

Emma turned around to face him, couldn’t help a smile spreading across her face, and placed her arms around his neck. “You know August will kill you, right?”

He shrugged. “He already gave me The Talk years ago, from the first moment he realized her little sister’s best friend was madly in love with her – You know, the big brother’s threatening _‘You hurt my sister, I hurt you’_.”

“Years? Killian, since when –?”

“From the day I saw a lost, full of energy girl running across the docks because she couldn’t find the way to Camelot and she stumbled into all the merchandise boxes to deliver.” Damn it! That had been the reason she’d had to bear with people giving her nasty looks for her fishy smell and the fact that she was late in her first day at school. She remembered it as one of the most embarrassing days of her life – gladly then she’d been able to change her clothes and wash herself up in the first break between classes. Killian had offered to escort her to the castle – she even remembered herself wondering what that boy not much older than her was doing outside the town school.

“Gross.”

He laughed out loud. “Well, maybe not that day but the day after that indeed. I've never seen anyone get so red while talking to me in our way to Camelot. The following day you came back to see us to the docks – clean and washed, thank you – to apologize, clarify you were new in town and beg to not report you to the sheriff station. You actually were lovely.”

“You never – said anything.”

“I didn’t want you to freak out and run away – didn’t want to lose my best friend.”

She smiled. “Well, fortunately – there are many things I'm better than running.” And she was back losing herself on his lips.

It was worth it. Was worth the "public display" and being expelled by Gold – she could swear to hear Merlin’s giggles on the background, surely having fun with the sight of the teenage lovers. Was worth going back to her apartment with him, holding hands. Killian then would say dealing with August’s threats was worth if that meant he could have her by his side.

Emma was worthy. Emma was enough for someone – for many people, actually, for many people who loved her for what she was.

Camelot was never the problem, she always knew. But for the first in her life, she realized the problem wasn’t she either.


	2. Outtake #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma's fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is not a multichapter and the drabble can be read without reading the previous chapter, but the idea came to my mind after remembering the finale of that one-shot, so here it goes. (You know, if you want to go read the previous chapter, I’m not one to complain *nervous laugh*) (I may use this ‘verse for more drabbles and one-shots)

“Swan! Hey, love – what are you doing the–?”

“I’m pregnant.” Better to rip it off that way.

It felt like a slap on the face – for both of them, as sure, her whole world turning around.

When she saw the evidence in her hands, she couldn’t manage her body to stop shaking. _What now?_ She didn’t want that, she couldn’t. And sure as hell she didn’t know how to tell anyone.

Things had been going well for her in general – her life was beginning to gain order after the big issue with Merlin and August – so of course such a bomb had to come into her life to ruin everything.

She was finally starting to accept all the ideas Merlin shoved into her head and be – ‘excited’ about it. And she was to let down everyone around her.

She would’ve laughed the hell out of the blanked expression on his face if she were not about to cry. “We didn’t –”

“Is not yours, Killian.” But how much she would’ve wished… If she – they – would have realized before her – their – feelings, how natural was being together, maybe she wouldn’t be on that mess.

“Oh,” he said. “I understand.” She looked at him, so immersed on his thoughts and – what she was supposed to do? He wasn’t yelling at her nor telling her to get the fuck out and never talk to him again.

_Maybe I should let him alone to process –_

“So, what are we going to do?”

Emma looked up – hadn’t even realized she was avoiding his eyes, – catch in surprise. They didn’t need words; she just hugged him.

/

“I’m not telling August about this.”

“You should.”

She did. And she needed not only Killian’s help but also the sheriff patrol to stop her brother to go find Neal to run him over with the motorbike.

(Not like he was going to find him anyway.)

/

“I don’t know if I should keep it.”

“No one but you has the answer to that, sis.”

Which was exactly the same answer from her friends and, obviously, Killian – and she know all them meant well, but she didn’t want people to let her take her decisions. For the first time, she wanted to let them decide for her, to take that load off.

_Maybe, this is just a wake-up call. The time to grow up came earlier with me than it does with most people; but I just have to deal with it and find out how to go on from now._

/

“I ruined his precious, mysterious plan. Merlin is going to kill me once he’s back to Storybrooke.”

“I’ll testify when the police call me, love.”

“You mean – David.”

“Whatever.”

/

But Merlin didn’t. On the contrary, he wasn’t even surprised. “I told you – things take their place on their own, when nobody interferes, duckling.”

He hadn’t wanted to say anything more. But she still found August’s book – not the same one than before, not a notebook, not one of the fairytales he used to read her when they were kids, – it was just a storybook, an old one that seemed to have her baby blanket – with an actual baby inside – on one of its pages.

_Once Upon a Time._


	3. Outtake #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian's accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, not necessary to read the previous parts to understand this outtake. This one is a little more angsty.

It’d been a couple of month since the accident when his wounds started to heal. And since then, the real pain began.

He remembered; he was on patrol that afternoon, with Milah next to him. She’d just arrived from her holidays with Belle and came to the station to visit him. He just took his shift after Graham, and it was meant to be a short watch around the town before going Granny’s with Emma and the little Henry and handing the responsibility to David.

His last memory was the road towards the town’s line and red smoke.

Milah’s smile frozen in her face.

Then, black. Even later, white. White walls, white sheets, white bed. White bandage in his left arm, and an ugly space where his hand used to be.

Bright green and a pair of pretty eyes kept him away from madness that night. Strokes caressing his hair on his sleep and waking up to find them by his side, also asleep.

Doctors shouldn’t have let Henry to see him, he’d thought, but given he and his mother were the persons preserving the little he was left of sanity, who was Killian to complain?

Milah hadn’t been so lucky.

His sister and Granny were a great source of support after he left the hospital too, and David was understanding with his license. Even knew that Merlin had asked for him. Graham had more work to take care and Emma had to do overtime while he stayed home looking after Henry, but other than his _quality_ time, things hadn’t changed for the rest of Storybrooke. Except Belle – Belle wasn’t talking to him anymore.

His physical health was improving. His mind was a separate issue.

He felt it every time he couldn’t help Emma, every time he couldn’t help Henry. Even every time he couldn’t help his sister or his granny. Every time he couldn’t manage the prosthetic or was relegated to simple tasks by David. He was useless.

He cursed the town’s line and the red smoke every night in his nightmares. He was consoled every time he woke up screaming by Emma and her loving arms. When Henry joined bed with them, he didn’t dream anymore – which meant a good thing for him.

But he kept going to work and kept asking David if he’d known something about Gold. The answer was always negative.

So apparently, the coward was doing well his job of keeping hide from people just like his son. Killian wondered if he had found him… Well, if that mission kept him away from Emma and Henry, he couldn’t complain either. Perhaps that way Gold would never find out about Henry and Neal’s connection, and Emma would never have to see the latter again.

He hoped. Otherwise, someone would have their ass kicked by the lady.

(Among all the darkness, he’d enjoy that, couldn’t lie.)

But there were almost no kisses anymore. Just a few ones after she came from work, accompanied by a _‘good night’_ before turning off the light in the bed and a _‘good morning’_ when they woke up (if she wasn’t gone already). Little Henry no longer laughed playing with him, Emma didn’t neither. He saw how he couldn’t make them happy anymore while he kept falling. Belle hated him deeply (he couldn’t even look her at the eyes to tell how sorry he was). People made awkward silences every time he came into a place.

Not that he could blame them, when his own thoughts were a mess, a scary place full of darkness and revenge.

.

He began to help at docks, where the sea’s waves kept his pieces together and he felt way more useful than at the sheriff station. Swan took his place there, along David and Graham and he had to say, she made a better work than he ever did – maybe both of them were finding their own places again. His prosthetic and he also started to make a good team.

Ruby and Granny had no problem to take care of Henry at nights while Emma and he went out, usually just for a simple walk. She took him by his fake hand as it were the real one, just with the same caring and love. He stroked her cheek and apologized for not telling her how much he loved her more often – he should’ve made her feel it every day, even after the accident. She encouraged him to go to talk with Belle.

“She doesn’t hate you, she’s just sad.”

But there was no way he could explain to her what had really happened, she wouldn’t believe him.

He did follow Emma’s advice, thought. Belle still deserved to know, to listen to his words. She could decide what to do with that. If she wanted to punch him, he wouldn’t stop her.

She didn’t. She didn’t exactly forgive him neither, but she nodded, she understood, she didn’t treat him as a crazy asshole – which was proof enough of how kind that woman was.

(It really was a thing he admired from Belle, or Emma too, kindness and forgiveness were a natural for them. Something he could never manage to achieve, no matter how hard Swan insisted otherwise.)

His dreams weren’t so dark that night. Henry’s laugh was genuine the day after. Emma’s moans and giggling were heartwarming when they made love – he couldn’t find better rest than with his head on her chest. People no longer whispered around him, but invited him to join the conversation.

He kept in contact with the sheriff station, though. No news of Gold yet.

He would get him, he would catch him. But meanwhile, he had a job to attend – a job he was _good_ at – and a family to take care and love, a family who took care of and loved him. What it was all that mattered, at the end of the day.


End file.
